


Temporary

by Highsmith (quimtessence)



Category: Stark Fear (1962)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Gen, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Murder, Murder by Cake, Non-Canonical Character Death, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-01-31
Packaged: 2021-02-25 09:09:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22493599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quimtessence/pseuds/Highsmith
Summary: Who doesn't like sprinkles on a birthday cake?





	Temporary

**Author's Note:**

> I love Ellen. She deserves only the best. Therefore, let's push the rest of this bullshit plot off a cliff straight away.

Temporary. Like a marriage.

Like a marriage would be, could be, if—say—the cake had a little more _zing!_ to it. Which it could certainly have if Ellen would have gone by the bakery well ahead of time to order a cake with sprinkles she would (very helpfully) hand off to the shop girl to use, all special like, both as decoration and, perhaps, as a little extra in the icing.

Who doesn't like sprinkles on a birthday cake?

And why not? After all, sprinkles are so darn easy to make. They're just sugar, corn starch, corn syrup, maybe some vanilla extract. Add your favourite colouring, and then you're good to go. Even Ellen with her high-flying job can make some easily in the morning, right next to the toast and coffee. Then it's only a matter of leaving them to dry and harden once out of the piping bag, ready by dinner time and perfect for use on a cake the next day. It's not like Gerry will wander into the kitchen by mistake; that's just plain ridiculous!

She doesn't purchase lingerie. The cake and the record are enough. She cuts them both a piece, brings out plates while his back is turned, puts the record on and hurries to bring his plate over with a candle burning on top.

"It's bad luck to cut the cake before the candle's blown," he says instead of _thanks, honey_ , or _you shouldn't have_.

Is it? Huh.

"Don't be silly," she says. "Wait till you have a taste," she adds. "The girl at the store swears by this flavour," she finishes.

Gerry must be amused enough, because he sets down his glass to blow out the candle and take the plated cake from her. She hurries over to the record player to turn the music a little higher. Behind her, the noises of fork on plate and chewing are too loud. She spears herself a tiny morsel from the bottom of the slice, more icing and spongy cake-bread than filling (full of sprinkles) or topping (colourful sprinkle swirls).

It really is some great cake.

*

When they'll ask her about what her husband could have possibly eaten that day that she didn't (because, after all, _she's_ not sick or, Heaven forbid, in a body bag down in the basement), she'll shrug her shoulders, handkerchief handy to blot out the womanly, wifely tears, and their eyes will slide past her soon enough.

**Author's Note:**

> [c'est moi @ tumblr](https://rhubarbdreams.tumblr.com/)


End file.
